Label:
Parlophone
Release Date:
26/05/2003

It's probably the most miraculous recorded comeback since
Icarus penned the popular soul-ditty ‘I Believe I Can Fly’.

As the mighty tribal drums thump in like Tho(m)r pounding across a desolate
wasteland, and a Peter Buck-esque guitar line chimes out, we can pull out our
pipes, and sit back and relax in the splendour of The Most Important Band In
Britain tm. Because, for the first time in six years, Radiohead
have signalled their return with a tune of gut-wrenching quality.

Thom Yorke** duets with himself gorgeously over a series of sumptuous
call-and-refrains and the guitars ring out to a shiver-inducing climax about
four minutes in, reminding you that Jonny Greenwood is probably the best
rock guitarist in the world when he’s he not pissing on your electronic chips.
The song also reminds you that Radiohead can write a thematically impenetrable
tune in a manner more chilling than anyone else. Perhaps having spent themselves
on this tune (stories are abound of Yorke bursting into tears upon its
completion due to its apparent qualities), they offer a selection of
electro-sleaze symphonies, indelibly marked by scattershot beats and heavy
muttering, which are equally impenetrable as the lead track but only half as
delectable.

“_There's always a siren/singing you to
shipwreck_”, wails the small and angry one. Indeed there is young man – and it’s you.